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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23760946">The day I met you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shirou9Atsuya/pseuds/Shirou9Atsuya'>Shirou9Atsuya</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Inazuma Eleven GO</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Family Issues, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Loneliness, Love at First Sight, M/M, Mental Health Issues, One Shot, Original Character(s), Past Infidelity, Self-Esteem Issues, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:33:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,464</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23760946</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shirou9Atsuya/pseuds/Shirou9Atsuya</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“They say a person needs just three things to be truly happy in this world: someone to love, something to do, and something to hope for.”  - Tom Bodett</p>
<p>And he finally got the three of them.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fubuki Shirou/Yukimura Hyouga</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The day I met you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey, hey!</p>
<p>I hope that you and your loved ones are doing okay, that you're all safe and sound! And to the students who had holidays, welcome back to school~</p>
<p>I know I said the next fanfic would be Atsuya's gift... BUT I didn't finish it (hehehe...) And lately, I've been in a FubuYuki mood. So, here is a VERY old fanfic of mine, one I posted on my Wattpad account. I don't use it anymore, but I would like to repost some fanfics here. I think that's a great way to keep my AO3 account active! I also wanted everyone to read them. They've been corrected (It was written 2-3 years ago... It had some mistakes &amp; typos). And I also wanted to post it for myself... Because I kinda love those old fanfics, despite being not that AMAZING?? For this one, it has been corrected AND the ending changed. If you want to check the old one, it has the same title, and it's under the pseudo Shirou-and-Atsuya. I advice you to read this one first, as it's a better version than the old one~</p>
<p>ANYWAY!! A warning before beginning: If you're not comfortable with this ship, don't read! There's no real love feelings... You'll understand why after you're done reading it, BUT just in case~ Also, pay attention to the tags! It's not THAT developped in the fanfic, but just for precaution (for those who are more sensitive).</p>
<p>As always, thank you to everyone for EVERYTHING! The support, the comments, the kudos... It's very appreciated &lt;33 Please, stay safe and respect the rules of the lockdown!</p>
<p>~ ENJOY THE READING ~</p>
<p>P.S. : I don't own any of the characters. Also, sorry for the typos/mistakes you may see.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p>"Are you gonna stay here?"</p>
<p>"Yes. I want to train a bit more."</p>
<p>His teammate started at him for few seconds before nodding and turning to leave for the school, which was standing further away, at the feet of the moutains covered by the sparkling snow.</p>
<p>"Don't be long, Yukimura. It seems there's going to be a big snowstorm today."</p>
<p>"Don't worry. I'm just going to shoot some balls", Yukimura reassured, a ball under his arm.</p>
<p>"Okay. See you tomorrow, then!" His teammate salued before leaving for good.</p>
<p>"Yes, see ya", the striker replied back.</p>
<p>Oujika finally left the grounds, leaving the other teenager alone on the field. Yukimura sighed. He was glad to have the opportunity to take advantage of this moment of solitude to train by himself, without <em>anyone</em> to lecture him. Whatever his teammates or his mother. His teammates always judged him for being too <em>independent</em> and <em>ferocious</em> in his plays, whenever they called him for the ball or he scored all alone. At those times, it left him with two choices: he either plays with them while controlling himself and his plays <em>or</em> he plays alone in a corner, free to play however he wanted. And when he was at home, his mother kept telling him all his efforts shown to that sport were unnecessary, that he should quit instead of losing his time. It angered and saddened him, especially when one person among all the people who didn't even show support was his own mother... A person who used to support him when he was younger. A person who, even if she didn't understand a rule, used to be by his side whenever he needed it.</p>
<p>That was why he loved that moment of solitude. It was <em>only</em> at the end of the practice that the striker could let out all his passion, all his love to football. With no one to judge him, with no one to make all his efforts look useless and void of utility.</p>
<p>Putting back the thoughts into a cage in his head, he glanced at the ball below his arm before putting it on the ground. He hit the ball with the tip of his foot and started dribbling to the cages, imagining players scattered all over the field in his head. Arrived in front of the cages, Yukimura shot the ball with all his strength. He looked at it flying in the air at full speed, the ball which landed in the net. It slowly rolled before totally stopping against one of the goalposts.</p>
<p>Yukimura quietly celebrated it with a small 'Yosh' while he was going to the cages to retrieve the ball. A quick glance at the sky above him before arriving at his destination, checking the weather. He took the ball and went back to the center of the field to do the exercise again. It was usual, almost a <em>routine</em>. Yukimura had always aimed to be the best striker he could be. When he missed the exercise, he would repeat it as many times as needed to fully master it. The <em>same</em> practice <em>every </em>day, at the <em>same</em> hour, <em>alone</em>.</p>
<p>As he was about to do it for the fourth time, the teenager swallowed. Those thoughts came back into his mind, as he let them invade it. He <em>knew</em> that Oujika despised his way of doing things, like all the rest of the team did. He knew that his mother hated football since his father left her and him behind, as his father had always been a fan of it. That was why he was <em>always</em> alone to train, even when the weather was against him.</p>
<p>Yukimura clenched the ball between his hands and gritted his teeth. <em>No one</em> supported him. <em>No one</em> understood him. His powerful, deep love and passion for the sport looked like fruitless efforts to them or simple ways to get on their nerves. His behaviour, his feelings, his way to play... <em>All</em> of it. They kept judging them... How dared they to judge him when <em>all</em> he was doing was to fight for his dream? One of those people being his own mother... Nothing but this thought left a bitter taste on his tongue, difficult to brave. He swallowed again, with difficulty, trying not to pay attention to the tears that were pecking at his eyes.</p>
<p><em>Great</em>. Thanks to those negative thoughts, he lost all motivation to train. They killed his motivation and ruined his mood, already low. And that was why Yukimura decided to stop training, as it was useless to train in that state of mind. With the ball back under his arm, he left for the school like Oujika did a while ago, in order to change and go back home, with the desperate hope that this moment of weakness will disappear for good.</p>
<p>When the striker arrived at the locker room, no one was there. And so much the better. He didn't want to be with others, less interact with them. He slowly walked to his locker, and as soon as he opened it, he pulled out his clothes from his sport bag to get dressed. Because of the sweat, his clothers slightly glued to his skin, which was pretty uncomfortable and made him feel a bit dirty. He didn't even think about bringing a brush for his messy hair. He sighed. In the worst case, his mother will be shouting at him while on their way home, for ruining the inside of her car or for whatever other <em>stupid</em> reason she will <em>definitely</em> find.</p>
<p>Yukimura put on his jacket, rolled up his scarf around his neck, and grabbed his bag after making sure his locker was locked. His bag dangling over his shoulder, he sipped water as he pushed the door of the locker room to leave. Nobody in the corridors. Apart from the headmaster and few teachers he had seen on his way to the room, no pupil was present. Well, after all... It was already 6 pm. He wondered why he was the only fool still at school.<em><br/>
</em></p>
<p>Dragging feet, after placing his gourd back to its original place, Yukimura took his phone out from his pocket to check whether his mother had sent him a message or not. But there was... nothing. Usually, she would make sure to send him a message warning him that she would soon be there, or rarely, she would give him a phone call. <em>Well</em>... It was true a few times. It happened for her to be late. But it was never <em>that</em> long... It was already 6:09 pm. Normally, at this time... She would had sent one already.</p>
<p>The teenager sighed and collapsed on the bench not far from the entrance. Sitting on the the window-sill, his head leaning against the cold glass, Yukimura looked at the snow driven by the gusts of wind. The sound whistled to his ears through the glass. Maybe it was because of the bad weather. She was probably blocked somewhere and it had bad reception due to the upcoming snowstorm. Or maybe... it was because of <em>that</em>.</p>
<p>Apart from the snow that raged outside, nothing disturbed the calm in the school's building. Time passed little by little, each minute going away with his hope. How could have he forgotten about that? There were <em>also</em> moments like those ones. His mother had a <em>real</em> problem with alcohol since his father left her for another woman. She spent most of her time drinking, screaming at him, blaming him for what happened, then crying and apologising to him for being a bad mother. She often told him that she was going to the 'office'. But in reality, <em>every</em> time she hadn't come to bring him home, that he had to take a bus to his house, he had <em>always</em> found her slumped on the chair of the kitchen, a bottle of alcohol hanging in her hand, snoring like an ogre and as miserable as usual.</p>
<p>He felt bitter, angry at the thought. He didn't like to feel that way. But <em>she</em> was the one urging him to feel that way, to think <em>all</em> those <em>horrible</em> things about her. She was literally making <em>no</em> efforts to change that bad image and forget that bastard he had as father to move on. No one. Instead...</p>
<p>Tears came to his eyes, filling them before gently rolling on his cheeks. He felt the desperate urge to collapse and cry, like he often did during those nights invaded by those thoughts about his whole life, sometimes remembering painful and long buried memories, keeping him awake for long, restless hours. At those moments, he would often cry all his soul until he was tired enough to fall asleep. Quickly checking if no one was there, he began to quietly sob, his face hidden by his hand, the other part of it hidden by the window, for only a few minutes until sudden footsteps resonated in the corridor. He froze at the sound. And as the realisation hit him, that someone was coming his way, Yukimura hastily wiped the salt water from his eyes and cheeks with the sleeves of his coat. The sound of the footsteps was getting closer with each second passing, until it totally stopped when the person arrived at his height.</p>
<p>Yukimura leapt from the bench and bowed, not even bothering to look and see who was the person standing in front of him, dreading a sermon of some sort.</p>
<p>"I apologize. I'm not hanging around in the corridors. I'm simply waiting for my mother to pick me up, but it seems like she's late. If I can't stay here, I will wait outside", Yukimura finished his monologue, breathless with the speed with which he had exclaimed those words.</p>
<p>The person didn't directly answer. The place remained silent, making Yukimura even <em>more</em> nervous than he already was. Until a laugh broke it, a laugh that made the teen's heart stop for a very few seconds.</p>
<p>"I don't know who you are, but you don't have to worry about it, <em>especially</em> with me. I'll not send you out in <em>such</em> a weather", the unknown said in a soft voice.</p>
<p>Yukimura finally raised his head, frowning. And as he discovered who was that stranger, he suddenly felt like fainting right on the spot, his heart now beating even harder and faster against his ribcage at the sight. An <em>angel</em>. The first and <em>only</em> word that appeared in his mind. After all, his whole face looked <em>angelic</em>. He had <em>fine</em> features, green dropping eyes sparkling with kindness, thin lips stretching into a gentle smile, cheeks and nose reddened by the biting cold of winter, making him look even cuter. He was... <em>breathtaking</em>. And that angel was the man he least expected to see: his idol named Fubuki Shirou.</p>
<p>But despite feeling nervous and confused to see that man before his eyes, he felt different. The atmosphere was different. It became... lighter. Warmer. A strange, but a nice and warm sensation infiltrated into him. His mind was blank, his eyes unable to detach themselves from the adult standing in front of him, his hands in his pockets, looking at Yukimura with curiosity, his head leaning to one side. A puppy... Why did he look like a cute puppy?</p>
<p>Yukimura was brought back to reality with the adult's voice.</p>
<p>"You said that your mother was coming to pick you up, right?"</p>
<p>"Y-Yes, that's what I said", Yukimura stammered, red like a tomato. "Well... I think that's what I said, right?" He muttered, rubbing the back of his head, suddenly uncertain.</p>
<p>The adult burst out laughing all of a sudden, surprising the teenager on the way. Taken aback for a few seconds, Yukimura smiled timidly, his cheeks slightly blushing. A gentle warmth settled in him, lulled by the man's laughter. He wished he could enclose his laughter in a jar, in order to be able to open it and listen to it whenever he liked. Yukimura loved that <em>clear</em>, <em>pure</em> laughter without an ounce of mischief behind. It rocked him... Even <em>reassured</em> him.</p>
<p>A thin smile stretching his lips, he blinked at the adult extending his hand to him. His hand slightly shaking, he took it without hesitation to shake hands.</p>
<p>"My name is Fubuki Shirou. I'm the new coach of the Hakuren football team."</p>
<p>Wait a minute... Did he say the new coach? HIS new coach?!</p>
<p>His eyes wide, his jaw hanging, Yukimura stammered "T-The new coach?"</p>
<p>Fubuki hummed. "I'll start tomorrow. Why? Is there a problem?" He asked, genuinely worried at Yukimura's sudden expression of shock.</p>
<p>"No! Not at all!" Yukimura hastened to reassure him, swearing in his head in front of Fubuki's puppy face distorted by worry. How could he manage to look even cuter? He could only feel bad for worrying such a <em>cute</em> <em>angel</em>. Red by the thoughts, he explained himself further. "I'm in the team. I'm just... gladly surprised to hear that a coach was found <em>so</em> quickly, <em>and</em> on top of that, one of the most <em>famous</em> players of Inazuma Japan", Yukimura ended in a whisper, even redder with his explanation, his eyes on the floor to avoid Fubuki's ones.</p>
<p>He was <em>truly</em> happy. A few days ago, their coach was fired for lack of investment and punctuality on training days. All his teammates had complained, himself included, to the director several times, unhappy with the lack of support, the coach's seriousness regarding the team and the tournament, which was getting closer with the days passing. It was stressful and annoying, to say the least... The coach had never bothered to prepare a <em>real</em> program or to bring something new so that they could improve, or <em>even</em> give a few encouraging words, to show his support. <em>All</em> he had done was being there physically, and nothing else. Though, despite understanding his teammates and their worries, he always thought they should train and give themselves the means, like he always did. The problem was that they <em>had</em> to have a coach.  With no coach, their efforts would be thrown into the void and they could forget about participating at the tournament. That was from that fact that the headmaster worked hard to find a new coach, a permanent replacement, until now unsuccessful.</p>
<p>Yukimura gulped, cheeks blushing. But he didn't expect <em>him</em>, among <em>all</em> the great coaches his headmaster had, to be chosen... After all, he knew he was part of a pro league team.</p>
<p>Way before becoming a professional player, Fubuki Shirou had participated at several tournaments as a teenager and kid, the most memorable one being the Football Frontier International, which he won as a player of Inazuma Japan, the famous team known to have almost no chance to win it. Unlike his parents, he didn't watch it in its entirety. He only followed the matches of Inazuma Japan, therefore the moments where Fubuki-senpai would appear. He was very young - exactly 4 years old - when it happened. But from what his parents told him, he <em>always</em> got excited when he appeared on TV. And as he grew older, he became <em>more</em> and <em>more</em> interested in football. When he had to choose a middle school, he chose Hakuren. It was the logical choice, as it was the closest to his home. But the top reason wasn't that it was the closest, then the <em>easiest</em> way to go to school thanks to the bus station, in case his parents couldn't bring him there with their car. No... As soon as he realised he loved football to death, as soon as he realised Fubuki Shirou became his idol, there was one school he had to go to, no matter what: Hakuren. The same one Fubuki-senpai went to. He wanted to become like him... A <em>very</em> skilled, talented, amazing and <em>super</em> <em>cool</em> striker. From what he heard, he had first played as a defender, which had always amazed him. It had always amazed him and motivated him to become a player like him because he could play as much as a defender and as a striker, by being good in <em>both</em> roles. He showed it during his childhood. He showed it during his teen time. And he was showing it even <em>more</em> as a grown adult and professional player, full of experience and talent. And <em>that</em> man was standing in front of him, which made him both happy and confused.</p>
<p>Why did he give up his brilliant career to train kids like them? Of course, he wasn't unhappy to have the chance to be trained by his idol himself, by the player he had always admired and aspired to become. With him by their sides, they could be <em>sure</em> to participate at the Holy Road. <em>But</em> he couldn't help those questions invading his mind... Why did he sacrifice it? Had he problems that forced him to quit, or to take a small break? Was he just simply taking a break before coming back again? But then, why becoming a coach during that time? Whatever the reason was, his happiness overpowered his confusion and worriness. After all, it wasn't <em>everyday</em> that young players had the chance to have their idol as their coach... A <em>talented</em> and more <em>charismatic</em> man that he imagined him during all those times he watched him play on TV...</p>
<p>"That time is totally over", Fubuki commented, pulling Yukimura out of his thoughts. "But I admit it..." He raised his eyes to the man's face at his sudden quiet voice, and had to prevent a groan from escaping his mouth. A groan of annoyance in front of such <em>cuteness</em> on his new coach's face. "It's nice there are still some people who remember that time", he shyly admitted. As he said those words, Yukimura couldn't help but detail <em>every</em> inch of his face, recording in his mind how <em>cute</em> and <em>angelic</em> the man looked. Slight blush was tainting his pale cheeks, his eyes looking at the ground, his long grey eyelashes flickering while his hand was caressing the back of his head, his whole expression both awkward and embarrassed. But with the look of his little smile, he looked grateful and happy at Yukimura's words. And <em>that</em> thought just... made his heart race like it was in a car race. To put it blunt: It was beating so <em>hard</em> against his chest that he worried his interlocutor could hear it from where he was. How dared he to be <em>that</em> <em>adorable</em>? Was he actually <em>real</em>?</p>
<p>"Anyway, it means you're one of my players, right? That's what we call a beautiful coincidence!" He exclaimed with a large smile, which looked so <em>sincere</em> and <em>warm</em> compared to all those <em>fake</em> smiles he saw from some players on TV, perfectly mastered for the cameras. Another reason to love him. "What's your name?"</p>
<p>"Yukimura Hyoga, sir."</p>
<p>"Oh, no need to call me sir. You can call me by my name, you know!" Fubuki exclaimed again, with another one of <em>those</em> smiles.</p>
<p>'He and his damn beautiful smile', Yukimura thought, his eyes shyly avoiding his coach's eyes, by fear he could read his mind and discover his more than <em>embarrassing</em> thoughts. Fubuki was observing him with curiosity, the same way he did earlier, seemingly perplexed by his player's reaction. Yukimura violently blushed at that sudden attention on him.</p>
<p>Fubuki brushed it off as he interrupted the silence, a quick glance at the window before getting back to Yukimura. "Tell me, Yukimura. Do you want me to bring you home?" Yukimura raised his eyes at him, evidently surprised at the sudden request. Fubuki realised his words, his eyes widening in realisation at the misunderstandings anyone could make out of his words. "Of-Of course, you'll have to ask your mother first! I-I mean, I don't think she would be <em>really</em> happy to know a <em>stranger</em> brought her son home without her permission..." He said with a nervous chuckle, his hand back at the back of his head, definitely one of his habits when he was in an awkward situation. And strangely... Even <em>that</em> looked <em>adorable</em> to him. God, he had a serious problem.</p>
<p>"But-But there shouldn't be any problem! After all, you're my new coach, si- I mean, Fubuki-senpai!" He finished, grabbing the strap of his bag harder, cursing the heat which seemed to not want to leave him in peace.</p>
<p>The appellation, as much as it was normal to call his new coach that way, had a... <em>pleasant</em> taste on his tongue. It sounded... <em>nice</em>. And the idea of it saying it more just- Yukimura mentally slapped himself at those more than disturbing thoughts, his face warm and red. He tried to hide that embarrassment by suddenly taking out his phone from his pocket.</p>
<p>"For me, there's no problem for you to bring me home", he commented as the screen of his phone lit after his wet fingers opened it. The idea of his idol bringing home made him feel both <em>very</em> nervous, excited and <em>most</em> of all happy. "Anyway... there are high chances she won't come", he said lower, surprising Fubuki at his sudden darker tone.</p>
<p>Yukimura excused himself and carried with what he was doing. He went into his contacts, found his mother's number and pressed on it, before carrying the phone to his ear. There was the 'beep' sound going on, giving him hope that she wasn't going to answer his call. And for <em>once</em>, she would do something good. He <em>wanted</em> her to not answer. For once, she would make him happy for <em>not</em> doing anything. The 'beep' sound went on... Four long beeps. Another beep and he would hang up. Yukimura waited for that beep, a little smile already making its appearance on his lips.  Another one and-</p>
<p>What a fool.</p>
<p>He bit his lower lip, his free hand in a fist. A voice came out of his phone. His mom's voice. His smile faded as fast as it came.</p>
<p>"Honey, is that you? <strong>*Hic*</strong> Why are you <strong>*Hic*</strong> calling me? Is there a problem?" His mother's rasped voice rumbled in the phone.</p>
<p>Oh, that was a first. Her <em>worrying</em> about <em>him</em>.</p>
<p>"Yes, there's one."</p>
<p>"Which one?"</p>
<p>"<em>You</em> saying <em>that</em> in the first place."</p>
<p>He could only imagine the faces she was making as he said those words. He didn't even pay attention to Fubuki's reaction, as he was swimming in his anger and frustration provoked by his mother. She was a trigger to him. He would usually quiet those feelings down... But right now, he just wanted to let it out and hurt her with his words.</p>
<p>"I don't <strong>*Hic*</strong> understand."</p>
<p>"I would be surprised if you understand something in your drunk state", he laughed bitterly, not a single trace of a smile on his face.</p>
<p>He knew he was going far, <em>too</em> far already. That he should control himself and keep those thoughts to himself. That he shouldn't act that way in front of his new coach. But anger was growing with each hiccup of his mother. With each one of her heavy, probably stinky breaths in the phone. He had to let it out <em>right now</em>.</p>
<p>"Dear, I-"</p>
<p>"It's okay. I'm going to ask dad if he can pick me up", Yukimura cut her before she could finish her sentence. "I don't need you."</p>
<p>How could he say that to his mother? Those words were like a punch thrown in the stomach, cutting your breath short with the violence and the pain of it. They were like a knife slicing deep into the flesh. It terribly hurt. And despite that... He wasn't feeling sorry <em>at all</em>. Not in the <em>slighlest</em>.</p>
<p>"And do you know why, mom?"</p>
<p>She didn't answer. But she was <em>still</em> there, waiting for his answer, despite the threat of being hurt by his venomous words again. So he continued and gave her the answer without waiting.</p>
<p>"Because dad is better than you. Unlike <em>you</em>, he wouldn't <em>never</em> forget about his own son". He gripped the phone harder, his knuckles going white. The nails of his free hand were going deep into his skin, hurting it. But he paid no attention to it, his anger blinding him little by little, letting free the beast inside him, relieved to get out of its cage. "And he doesn't drink... unlike <em>you</em>", he ended in a whisper, his anger dripping from his voice.</p>
<p>His mother remained silent on the other side of the line, her hiccup interrupting the heavy silence that had settled from time to time. But not only... Sniffles. Was she crying? But... What was she expecting? As much as it sounded <em>cruel</em> and <em>mean</em>... He had <em>no</em> pity for her. He didn't intend to apologize. She looked and sounded <em>disgusting</em> to him. She was a <em>disappointment</em>. She dug her own grave and here she was. She couldn't blame him for it. His father was <em>ignoble</em>, but <em>not</em> as much as <em>her</em>. As much as he didn't see him as his father, he didn't see her as his mother anymore. As much as he was disappointed in his father for leaving with another woman... At least, <em>he</em> didn't forget about him. To him... She was just a <em>lost</em>, <em>divorced</em> woman desperated for a man who <em>no</em> longer <em>needed</em> and <em>wanted</em> her. And the <em>only</em> refuge she found...? Alcohol. A drink <em>slowly</em> killing her liver, her sanity, her whole self, her whole life. And oddly... It wasn't affecting him like he expected it to.</p>
<p>"You're <em>pathetic</em>, mom."</p>
<p>Was she <em>seriously</em> crying when <em>she</em> did it to herself?</p>
<p>"Pathetic and hopeless."</p>
<p>He was angry. But he could feel the tears making their way to his eyes. Was he going to cry too?</p>
<p>"I just can't believe you're my mother."</p>
<p>His father. His mother. His life. All of that... Just a <em>joke</em>. Maybe that was why he wanted to cry... After all, he was a joke too.</p>
<p>"If I could, I would just-"</p>
<p>He couldn't finish his sentence as Fubuki took the phone from his hands without warning him beforehand, cutting Yukimura in his burst of anger. He looked at his coach, his eyes wide of surprise, small tears drenching them. His mouth slightly open with shock, he looked at the adult bringing the phone to his ear, no smile on his face.</p>
<p>"Good evening, madam."</p>
<p>The woman on the other side didn't answer directly. "Who-Who are you?" Her weak voice asked, broken. Almost like a whisper.</p>
<p>"Yukimura-kun's new coach", he gently answered. "He called you because I suggested him to bring him home. It's quite late already, and it would take time for your... ex-husband to do so". Yukimura could see he was feeling uneasy and awkward, but he continued despite that. He suddenly felt guilty for making his coach going through that. "With your permission, of course. That's why he called. To ask you for it."</p>
<p>"Why would you do that?"</p>
<p>"Because he's one of my players and I want him to get there safe", he directly answered, without an ounce of hesitation.</p>
<p>Yukimura knew she asked a question, and to his coach's answer, his chest felt weirdly... <em>warm</em>. He cared about him, about his safety and well-being. And it felt... <em>nice</em>.</p>
<p>"So, madam? What is your answer?" Fubuki inquired, his eyes lost through the window.</p>
<p>"..."</p>
<p>Just say yes.</p>
<p>"I..."</p>
<p>Say yes.</p>
<p>"Okay. Thank you... I would be <strong>*Hic*</strong> grateful if you do it."</p>
<p>"Thank you for trusting me. I will bring him there safe and sound", Fubuki answered with what looked like a sigh of relief. But Yukimura wasn't sure about that.</p>
<p>"Thank you."</p>
<p>And she seemed to have hung up because Fubuki lowered the phone and gave it back to him, in silence. Yukimura looked at his hand, where was his phone, and slowly, he picked it back. It got back to his pocket. And that was when the reality slapped Yukimura hard. His sudden reaction, his rude behaviour, his harsh words... <em>All</em> of it. He did <em>all</em> of that in front of him... How could he?</p>
<p>"Fubuki-senpai, I-" What to say after this? "I don't know what-"</p>
<p>"It was wrong, Yukimura-kun."</p>
<p><em>Ouch</em>. First encounter and he was already hearing his coach's cold, scolding tone. It was <em>so</em> different from the warm, gentle voice... It didn't suit him <em>at all</em>. If nothing would have happened, he wouldn't believe such <em>voice</em> could come out of his mouth. It was <em>his</em> own fault.</p>
<p>He swallowed, tears rolling down his cheeks, the bangs of his hair hiding his eyes. "I know", his weak voice answered, threatening to break at the last syllabes of the word.</p>
<p>"Are you sure you realise what you've said to your own mother?"</p>
<p>"I do."</p>
<p>"Look at me and say it again."</p>
<p>He flinched at Fubuki's commanding tone. It sounded... scary. Why was he that angry? He knew it was wrong, but-</p>
<p>"If you're honest, if you feel sorry for what you said... Look at me and say it again."</p>
<p>And that was what Yukimura did. He swallowed before looking up, for his eyes full of tears to meet his coach's ones. There was no need to hide them anymore.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry". And like it wasn't enough, he repeated the words again, at the edge of bursting in tears, biting his lip hard to prevent it from happening. "I'm so, so sorry."</p>
<p>And that was it. As soon as those words left his trembling lips, he couldn't just hold it in. He just started sobbing harder, letting free that pain in his chest, which had been stabbing it <em>over</em> and <em>over</em> again. He wasn't usually like that, open about his feelings. Well... He had no one to talk about them to, anyway. But he couldn't just do it anymore. The conversation with his mother just opened that secret jar, hidden far into his heart, and he couldn't close it anymore. He couldn't hold it inside anymore.</p>
<p>As he started crying all the pain out, Fubuki advanced toward him and surprised him by taking him in his arms, engulfing him in a tight embrace against his chest, one of his hands on his head and the other surrounding his body, bringing it closer to him. And as much as it surprised Yukimura... It didn't creep him out. It felt... good. Warm. Safe. He... loved it.</p>
<p>His arms surrounded his coach's chest and grabbed the back of his jacket with his shaky hands, his face buried deep into Fubuki's white sweater, wetting it with the salty water incessantly coming out of his eyes, his cries covered by the tissue. And the adult didn't push him back. It was the opposite... His embrace grew tighter, his hand kept stroking his head with tenderness, the other doing the same on his back, his head on the top of his own. All that in silence. There were no words needed after all.</p>
<p>That was only after a bunch of minutes that Fubuki decided to speak. Staying in the same position, his gestures of comfort going on, he whispered "Don't worry, Yukimura-kun. You're not alone, anymore."</p>
<p>Yukimura's heart stopped at his words. His eyes red, puffy from crying, he lifted his head toward his coach, his lips slightly apart. Fubuki was smiling, showing one of those smiles Yukimura was already <em>so</em> in love with. He patted his head, the kindness and softness back on his face, his eyes not leaving Yukimura's ones. "I'm here, now."</p>
<p>Yukimura's eyes widened at those three simple words, which just blew his mind and brought back the tears to his eyes. With a shaking lip, his teeth deep into it to prevent himself from crying, his forehead fell against Fubuki's chest with a bumping sound. "Thank you."</p>
<p>His voice sounded weak, broken, tired. And he was. But as much as those negative emotions were punching, slapping him on the face... Fubuki's kindness, his warm light and tight embrace... They made them look <em>insignificant</em>. Almost like... it was <em>no</em> big deal. Feeling his arms around him, his head on his own, his hands comforting him, his warm body against his own, his heart beating against his ear, hearing his quiet and regular breath... He felt relief. He felt like he didn't have to worry anymore. That he was going to be okay. That his anxious, angry, lost and lonely heart would be happy again.</p>
<p>"It's okay."</p>
<p>That he wasn't alone anymore.</p>
<p>"Let it all out, Yukimura-kun. I'm here."</p>
<p>That <em>finally</em>... Someone understood him.</p>
<p>"I'll be here from now on."</p>
<p>A gentle caress on his head. Yukimura closed his eyes, his arms closing even more - if possible - around his coach. He smiled.</p>
<p>And that person with him was more than his idol... An angel he fell in love with. An angel fallen from the sky called Fubuki Shirou.</p><hr/>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you enjoyed it! Personally, I did... A LOT!! I totally changed the ending. The first one was rushed and I didn't like it very much. I used to do, but now that I improved as a writer, I wasn't really happy with it. Adding it to my view of Shirou and Yukimura's backgrounds, I wanted something... softer, warmer for them and their first meeting. It's angsty, with a difficult family situation for Yukimura. But I wanted to find something Shirou could relate to: anxiety, loneliness, low self-esteem, a dark past,... And I also wanted to find a stronger reason for Yukimura to fall in love with Shirou, other than the idol reason. I think that, with the change of this old fanfic, I might have found the starting point of a future FubuYuki fanfic I want to write.</p>
<p>ANYWAY!! Please, don't hesitate to leave comments &amp; kudos. &lt;3</p>
<p>P.S.: It was really weird to write Fubuki instead of Shirou... I'm SO used to call him by his first name X'D</p></blockquote></div></div>
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